


The way he moves

by EliasFinn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Ballet Dancer Draco, Dancer, Falling In Love, Fluff and Fun, Fluff and Smut, Hip-Hop Dancer Harry, Idiots in Love, Luna is a Good Friend, M/M, Minor Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliasFinn/pseuds/EliasFinn
Summary: After his best friend, Ron, breaks his leg, Harry is in need of another dancer for the upcoming competition.Luna is a good friend and gets him Draco, pointy git, mister know-it-all, ballet dancer, and owner of a beautiful little butt, Malfoy.Trouble? Definitely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Harry Potter, sadly, is still not mine. So thanks to JKR for that.  
> 2) English isn't my native language. So if you find grammar and spelling mistakes, I'm sorry. Nevertheless, I hope you can enjoy this little fic =)  
> 3) Kudos and comments are always welcome, even or especially constructive criticism.
> 
> 4) This fic has 4 chapters and I try to upload them asap.
> 
> Have fun and nice greetings from Germany

"You can't be fucking serious.", Harry Potter shouted at his best friend, who sat on one of the hospital beds and with his leg in plaster. He raced into the hospital wing of their school and came slithering to a halt. His hands gestured wildly at the bandaged leg.

Ron Weasley had at least the decency to look ashamed, "Sorry, mate."

"What the heck has happened?", The dark-haired teen asked and sat down on the uncomfortable plastic chair next to Ron's bed.

When he had heard that his best friend, brother by choice, companion in crime was in the hospital wing, he went immediately.

They were best friends for seven years straight and nothing, not even a very furious Professor McGonagall, their Spanish and biology teacher, could hinder him.

"Goyle, the git.", Ron bent his other leg and made a grimace when he clumsily touched the injured one, "He pushed me when we were in the hall after chemistry, almost fell down the fucking stairs and I got tangled with 'Mione's bag."

"Language, Mister Weasley.", The school matron and owner of the hospital wing scolded. She had arrived unnoticed and stood with an earnest face behind them, the white medical smocks impeccable.

"It's going to be ok, right?", Harry pleaded and starred at the hurt leg. It was a long leg with a big foot and even longer toes. Toes, which were blue.

"Mister Potter.", Madam Pomfrey started to lecture in her piercing, annoyed voice, "This foot is broken."

"But whats with the competition in three weeks?", Harry croaked and frantically gasped for air.

That was bad, that was sooooo bad. They had a dance competition in three weeks they had worked for the whole school year. This was important. They couldn't not dance on that day.

"Don't be an imbecile, Mister Potter. Clearly, Mister Weasley shan't take part of that dance spectacle. His foot is broken!", Madam Pomfrey had put her hands on her hip and sent him a stern look, "And now, young man, out! Mister Weasely has to take a rest."

"But...", Harry interrupted and sent Ron a helplessness glance, who just shrugged his shoulders.

"OUT!", she had raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Harry.", Ron called out when he reached the door and went into the hall.

"Shit.", he mumbled to himself.

This competition was important. It could have got them the attention of the National Performing Arts School, which was what the best friends wanted the most. At least it could have got them a scholarship.

Sure, Harry could try to do it alone. He had three weeks to work on another performance but what would be the point without his best friend? And a new performance wouldn't be as good as the one they already had.

He started to walk down the corridor toward the Great Hall for lunch, not entirely around the corner when his mobile buzzed, ' _Yo, are you angry? ~Weasle~_.'  
' **Nah, you're alright?** '  
_'Yeah, I'm good. Sorry that I can't do that for you anymore_.'  
' **What do you mean?** ', Harry frowned.  
' _Well... I wanted to talk to you about that after the competition, but well..._ '

In the Great Hall, it was, as usual, noisy. Students talked, dished rattled and somewhere near him, Seamus and Dean had a strained discussion whether football or hockey was the better choice. Dean slapped his hand on the table, "Jeez, Shay, of course, footie is better. What are you even talking about?"

The Irish boy went red, with anger or joy because of the argument, Harry wasn't sure and started to retort.

He sat down on the bench on his table, ignoring most students. Only laying his hand on Hermione's shoulder in the process, so she would acknowledge his presence and grab for a cottage pie, his eyes on the display, ' **Ron?** '

' _Sorry, Pomfrey. It's just that I'm not sure if I want to_ do _dancing for a living anymore, you know? My grades are good enough for a scholarship for veterinarian medicine, and I thought I could do that, with Charlie_."

Charlie Weasley had become a veterinarian and worked worldwide with endangered species.

 **'Why haven't you told me?** '

' _Thought you would be_ angr _\- Hello Mister Potter. Stop texting; Mister Weasley needs his rest. You can talk after dinner, sincerely Madam Pomfrey._ '

Well, that had worked flawlessly, hadn't it? He thought and sighed loudly.

"'Mione, did you know that Ron doesn't want to go to the National Performing Arts School anymore?", He asked his best friend and current girlfriend of his other best friend. The girl looked up from the book in front of her and raised an eyebrow, "So, he told you eventually?"

"So, you knew?!", he gasped for air, "Why haven't you guys told me?"

"Harry.", she said in the same tone as McGonagall when she was disappointed after an utterly stupid answer, "You are quite theatrical about stuff like that."

"I'm not!"

"You are!", replied his ex-girlfriend, Ginny, who had come and sat next to them.

Ginny and he had been together for nearly two years. After the summer of that school year, the girl had held him back and asked if they should work on their relationship. When Harry hadn't answered anything, unsure what because for him the relationship had been fine, she had sighed and broken up. Until that day he didn't know why they weren't together anymore, but if he was honest, he didn't really miss it. The only real problem had been, that the girl was Ron's little sister and the friendship had been tense for a few weeks.

Ginny held up her dark red hair, while she got herself some stew and continued, "You are always dramatic about dancing. Nearly as bad as Malfoy."

"I'm not like that poncy git, am I, 'Mione?"

"Well...", but instead of answering, she started to ignore them in favour of reading the book, hiding behind the mess of her brown curls.

Ginny sniggered and went up to go to her current boyfriend, Blaise Zabini.

He sighed again. This must have been the day of letting the air out of his body in a non-theatrical way. They were wrong; he wasn't dramatic.

"You're ok, Harry?", A dreamy voice next to him asked. When Harry turned, he looked directly into Luna Lovegood milk-white face and cornflower blue eyes.

"Hey, Luna.", He tried to smile at her. They two had been friends for several years now, even though the girl was a strange fella. 

They had met for the first time in the American diner next to their school. Luna had worn a yellow summer dress, grass-green rubber boots and strange hat that probably came from the Victorian epoch, despite the season. It had been December, and heavy snowflakes had been falling from the grey sky. She had spoken about creatures no one who hadn't seen death could see them. She called them Thestrales. All in all, she was strange, but Harry had liked her immediately. Since then they went to all school parties together, and she even had put on a lion-mask at one of his and Ron's competitions so that she could cheer them on properly.

Luna sat next to him on the bench and took a bit of his pie.

"Whats wrong?", she asked; a few crumbles were falling out of her mouth and although Harry couldn't see Hermione, he knew that the girl was twitching.

"Ron broke his foot because Goyle pushed him.", he declared shortly.

Luna made a face, "That must have hurt, right."

"Right.", Harry sighed again and put his mobile in his bag. Ron wouldn't be able to talk to him anyway, with Pomfrey watching him like a hawk.

"And now he can't do the competition with me."

Luna raised a pale eyebrow, "You don't want to do that alone?"

He stretched a bit, rubbing his leg against hers. They always touched in a non-romantic way, and he liked it. Human touch was essential for him.

When he still had lived with his aunt and her fat, walrus husband, the only touch he got were beatings. Since being with his godfather and in the boarding school Hogwarts, a lot had changed. Now he sought out the contact.

"Well, I don't know who would be willing and good enough to do it with me.", Harry made a face and swallowed another sigh in the last moment.

Luna jumped out of her seat, the white blonde waves bouncing, and grabbed him by the collar, "Oh, I know someone. Come on."

Bewildered he followed her, tripped with almost every step. As fast as possible he walked with the blonde through the corridors of the school. It was early April, and due to the stone walls, it was chilly.

In front of one of the gym rooms, she stood still and laid her hand on his chest, "Just watch first and then talk. Not the other way round, like always, ok?"

"I always think first."

"Liar.", She simply responded. He could hear some music, modern club stuff, nothing he would really prefer, but it was ok.

When he saw that Una still waited for an answer, he merely shrugged his shoulders, "Ok, I won't say anything."

Then she opened the door, with a bright smile on her lips and directed him to be quiet while following her into the room.

The music got louder and the heavy huffs of someone working out mixed with it.

Harry peeked around the corner.

There were some mirrors on the wall, together with a ballet barre. The big windows let enough sun throw, so the room was lit in warm light. Harry knew the place quite well. He trained there as well when he had time next to football and the official dance training.

The first thing he saw of the person, was long, pale legs. Endless, tones, beautiful legs. The person was bent down, stretching their long limbs and huffing with effort. The long legs ended at a nice looking bubble-bum in dark green shorts. Harry peered at the torso, which was muscled but still slim. Long arms, beautiful shoulders, a long, white swanlike neck. Silver blond hair and...

"BLOODY HELL!", Harry shouted when the dancer turned around and noticed them, "Malfoy?"

"Harry!", Luna uttered annoyed, "You promised."

"Potter!?", Draco Malfoy, Slytherin prince, richest human being at that school, an ego the size of the Great Canyon sneered at him. They hated each other for seven years. Since the day Malfoy had joked about Ron's upbringing and his hand-me-down-clothes.

Harry should have known. The only person Luna liked talking to was the rich bastard. He wasn't sure why they were friends, probably because their fathers were related over a dozen corners, but they were, and here he was, appreciating Malfoys bum.

"What are you doing here?", Malfoy demanded to know, crossing his arms over his toned chest.

"I'm asking myself the same.", Harry muttered while sending Luna an irritated glance.

"You should watch him, and not talk.", she huffed with annoyance.

"You watched me?"

"No, I didn't!"

"But that's why you are here, Harry!", Luna retorted.

"Yeah, Luna, I've seen him bent over."

"You looked at my ass?", snapped the blond git.

"NO! I didn't!", Harry grunted, "As if I would look at you, you pointy dimwit."

"You did look at his bum, Harry."

Malfoy growled at him, "I'm not pointy."

"You are."

His large hands came up, rubbing over his pale, pointy face and pinched the crook of his nose, "What the fuck are you doing here, Luna?"

She beamed at him for asking her and answered, "Well you see, Ronald has a broken leg, and Harry has a competition in twenty days and eighteen hours."

"And?"

"And I thought you would be perfect for helping him."

For a short moment it was dead silence, but then Harry started to laugh out loud, nearly toppling over and his hand were searching for support. Even Malfoys mouth twitched dangerously near of a laugh.

"You can't be serious.", he cackled.

"Yeah, Luna.", Harry took several deep breaths, "He's a ballet dancer."

"What does this supposed to mean?", The other boy snapped and looked at him furiously. His silver eyes were like daggers in the moonlight.

"Well, you know...", Harry stuttered, distracted from those eyes.

"I'll let you know, that ballet dancer are capable of doing everything you hip-hop boys can do."

"Nah, you can't. It's different training."

Malfoy took a step towards Harry and even while walking, he moved like the typical ballet dancer. Graceful, but with a stick in the ass. Although his bum still looked excellent.

The blond scrutinised him. The aristocratic facial features over plain. He looked nice when he didn't behave condescendingly.

"I wouldn't want to help you anyway."

"Boys.", Luna tried to intervene, but Harry interrupted her rudely, "See, as I said. You couldn't do it."

"I said I wouldn't do it, not that I couldn't", Malfoy stopped directly in front of Harry, their noses almost touched, and he could feel the hot breath of the other boy in his face. Seen up close, his eyes looked even more beautiful. Framed with almost invisible lashes, so long that they brushed his eyebrow and iris was in an amber tone. The rest clearly silver. Harry hadn't seen this before.

"STOP THAT!", Luna called and stamped her foot, "That's enough."

Malfoy backed away, and Harry leaned on the barre.

"Remember what you told me once, Draco?", She hissed, and he jerked. His pale face went even paler. Slowly he nodded.

"I honour it now.", Harry had never seen her this angry, "And you!"

She turned to him, her hands on her hips and for a brief moment she looked exactly like Mrs Weasley, "You will work with Draco."

"Luna, I can do that alone.", Harry wanted to get out of it, obviously uncomfortable working with Malfoy, "I just work on new choreography."

"Yeah, maybe.", She mussed, "But the new one won't be as good as the one you'll already have. And you want to go to this dance school, do you?!"

"Yeah, sure, but..."

However, Luna had turned around, "Then work together.", and slammed the door close behind her.

Harry gazed dumbly at the door. He hadn't seen her like this ever. That was quite a first tantrum.

"Well.", Malfoy drawled, "Then let's get started, shall we?"

"You don't really intend to dance with me, do you, Malfoy?", Harry countered with a raised eyebrow.

Malfoy bent down to the music player, his bum right in the air, and answered, "I don't want to find out how she reacts if we do not do that. So take off that stupid jumper and show me the moves."

Fuck, Harry thought while glancing at Malfoys beautiful backside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> have fun reading and I hope you like the next chapter =)  
> I'm going London this night for holiday and come back on Sunday, so I won't be able to upload the next chapter before Monday. I hope that's alright ;)  
> Lots of love and hello from Germany

The black-haired boy had never thought that being a prima ballerina could be that exhausting.

After the first stretching and workout with the prig, Harry had the muscle cramps of his life.

When he had come into the training room, more than fifteen minutes earlier, Malfoy was already there. He sat on the floor and reached for his feet, his chest pressed to his legs, and his forehead touched his ankles. He only wore a plain black short and a black tee shirt, which was far too big for him and showed his white collarbone. His long, pale neck was clearly visible since the blond hair was in a bun, and Harry wanted to reach out to brush his fingertips over the soft looking skin.

"You're early.", Harry had said and watched him with disgust. His own thoughts made him nervous.

"So are you.", The other retorted, mumbling into his flesh and grabbed his ankles for one last stretch before he stood up again.

His feet were bare, no shoes, no socks and they were as long and graceful as the rest of Malfoy.

"You wanna start or stare, Potter?", He sneered and bent down, so his hands were touching the floor.

"Kiss my ass, Malfoy.", Harry snorted and let his bag fall to the floor so that he could get ready for dancing.

When he had tossed his jumper and glasses aside, Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "You're not going to warm up?"

"Nah, don't need it."

The blond crossed his arms in front of his chest, and the sneer on his face got worse, "You're quite full of yourself, aren't you?!"

Harry raised his hands over his head, scratching his neck and closed his eyes with annoyance. Why had Luna done that to him? Wasn't he a good friend to her, always?

"I already stretched before I came here.", he said after suppressing a huff, "However, your warm-up is probably just lame."

"Oh-ho.", Malfoy laughed cruelly, his foot playing with one of the neon stretching bands on the floor, "I think you've got no balls to work out like a ballet dancer."

Harry, who had wanted to get to the stereo for some proper music, stopped, "What did you say?"

"I said.", Malfoy spoke extremely slowly as if he was talking to a toddler or Goyle, the twit, "That you have probably no balls to be a ballet dancer."

He leaned on the barre and smirked. The muscles under his arms, although there were thin, were clearly outstanding.

"Not true."

"Than, what are you scared for?", Malfoy bared his teeth, "That you look like a sissy? That your friends think that it makes you gay?"

"Woa - Malfoy!", Harry famed angrily, "I'm not a homophobe."

"But that's what you and your friends think when you hear about a guy dancing ballet. That they are not as masculine as you and your golden hip-hop group are.", Malfoy held his hands up like he wanted to make his statement clear.

Harry opened his mouth to snap back, but nothing came out. He remembered suddenly all those moments when Seamus and Dean had laughed behind their hands about Malfoy being a ballet dancer, or none of the girls wanted to go to the Yule ball with him a few years ago.

"He'll probably just needs a substitute, so no one will know about him being a poofter.", Harry had heard Lavander Brown whisper to her friend, Parvati. That day Harry had called Sirius and asked him about poofter.

"It's something mean, something you don't want to call people around you.", His godfather had told and sighed, "People can't help who they fall in love with. It's not a decision, and no one had the right to judge them. Love is just love."

The ugly feeling in his gut, when Sirius had explained to him what it meant, never left him. He couldn't tell why he felt like that or what made him uneasy whenever someone used a slang word for being homosexual. It was just this way ever since.

"I don't think that, Malfoy.", Harry murmured, ashamed of his friends and their behaviour over the past few years, "And even if you're queer, it doesn't matter to me."

Those silver eyes went big. Malfoy hadn't expected Harry to give that response, apparently.

"Really?"

"Just show me your warm-up, ok?"

Malfoy looked like he wanted to add something, his full lips slightly open and the bottom pink from being nibbled. Instead of talking he went to the stereo, his shoulder brushed Harrys, and turned the music on.

Then they started, and Harry wished he had never been born. He did everything like Malfoy, imitated him, who didn't bat an eyelash on the training. While Harry's bouncy hair laid flat on his sweaty forehead, and his hands were slippery after a few minutes, Malfoy looked like he was ready to nap.

"Fucking hell.", Harry pressed between his teeth when he tried to do the split precisely like the blond boy in front of him, who watched him in the mirror at the wall with a big, bitchy smirk.

"You're alright, Potter?", he sniggered, his legs perfectly straight on the floor, no air could move under him. 

"Fuck you, Malfoy.", Harry snapped and tried to ignore the loud chortle of the other boy. He struggled to move out of the position he sat in and watched Malfoy do a perfect string.

His butt was clearly noticeable in the black shorts, and it looked a bit like two perfect softballs. It was muscular and trained, but at the same time, it seemed so soft and squishy. Harry wondered how it would feel under his hand and if Malfoy would like to get touched there.

"Where the fuck are you staring at?", Malfoys shout tore him out of thoughts and Harry jerked.

Did he really fantasise about Malfoys ass?

"Nothing.", he blushed furiously, the tips of his ears felt hot and like they were ready to burn his hair.

Malfoy flicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, "Right. Let's start to move. Show me the dance, Potter!"

 

Since that day, Harry went to meet Malfoy daily for training; and it was tough.

At first, they would stretch and warm up, and Malfoy made it clear that Harry couldn't go around that. He grabbed the black haired boy, pushed him down until his tendons screamed with pressure and he was sweating like mad.

Then Harry would start the music and show him the moves. He helped Malfoy to get into the figures, steadied him or clutched his thin hands to show him how they had to move, so it was correct.

All the while the blond never said anything against the choreography. They were still bickering like an elderly couple, but the intensity was gone. They shoved each other out of the way in the halls or snapped insults, while they stretched, but more often than not Malfoy started to laughed. Not at him, but about something Harry had said or the way his nose scrunched when Snape annoyed him. When they worked on the choreography, Malfoy didn't talk.

Silently he worked with Harry until even at his upper lip sweaty pearls piled up.

Harry couldn't help but admire him. Malfoy was good. Really good. His body still moved with the gracefulness of a ballet dancer Harry could never bring up, but he learned fast. Within a few days, Malfoy could dance Ron's and Harry's part, and they moved to complement the dance and Malfoys steps.

"You'll have to raise your head a bit faster.", Harry panted through the loud music and went to show Malfoy the move.

It was a lovely spring day. The sun shone bright and warmed the room unnecessarily. Since it was Saturday, they needn't go to classes and were training for hours.

Sometime around their third repeat of the whole dance, Malfoy had tossed his shirt aside and only wore his green shorts. His shoulders glistened in the sun. His blond hair wasn't in a bun again, brushing his chin with every movement and curling on the neck.

He rolled his head, and the strands were falling into his eyes, reflecting the sun and for a moment he looked like one of those ancient Greek statues Harry had seen in a museum.

Malfoy looked beautiful.

"Like that?", He huffed, and the spiteful tone was missing again. Like the ribbon which had held his hair up, the animosity between them had vanished. 

Watching the other and seeing that they were good at something and constantly touching each other probably made that, Harry mused. He touched Malfoy more often than he had touched Ron. Perhaps because Ron just knew what Harry wanted from him, seven years of friendship a great assistant.

"No.", Harry said and stepped behind him to grab his head, so he could move it the way Malfoy should do, "This way."

Gently his hands guided Malfoys head in a small circle over and over again. Malfoy moved the rest of his body like he should in the choreography and Harry did the same. Feeling the soft hair and the hot scalp under his fingers made him want to reach out more. He stepped closer, his nose nearly touching Malfoys neck. The blond smelled terrific, something like apple pie and sharp aftershave and all Harry wanted to do was to bury his face in there, maybe even licking the small strip of pale skin and savour, if the other would taste as he smelled. Water poured into his mouth, and he had to swallow. With another step closer, they were chest to back, and they were grinding against each other. Harry felt Malfoys butt against his dick, and he wanted to press further, harder against the warm flesh, preferably without the layer of fabric.

"Malfoy.", he whispered when the other rubbed particular hard on him, and he felt his cock filling with blood.

When his breath ghosted over Malfoys sensitive skin, Harry felt him shudder.

Harry looked up, his hands still on place, Malfoy watched him out of big, heated eyes in the reflexion. There were red blotches in his usually pale cheeks, and the lips were shiny with spit. He licked over is own lips, and Malfoys eyes followed his tongue.

He just wanted to turn the blond around, so maybe they lips could meet in a heated kiss when he heard a cough. Malfoy tumbled away from Harry, who missed the body heat immediately.

Behind them were Hermione and Ron. While the girl smirked at them, an adorable flush spread on Malfoys chest, Ron looked confused.

"That wasn't in the original choreography.", His best friend stated, "Were you changing it?"

Harry wanted to shake his head, but Malfoy slapped him hastily on the back of his head, "Yeah, we'll change it a bit, if you're ok with it, Weasel."

Ron pouted and seemed to think about it, but then shrugged his shoulders, awkwardly leaning on his crutches, "Show me first."

"What?", Harry shouted, but Malfoy stepped in again.

"You see, ginger, the part with the head-roll? Instead of doing it far too hasty, Potter step behind me and do this here.", He grabbed Harry's head roughly and with, to the dark-haired boy's surprise, shaky fingers. He moved Harry's head, while moved to stand behind him. Malfoys breath was warm and somehow uncomfortable, while comfortable in his neck. They started to dance the part as they had before, but under the eyes of Harrys best friend all the sexual tension had vanished.

"We're not finished with working around that part.", Harry said when he saw Ron's doubtful face, "We had the idea only a few moments ago before you guys came in WITHOUT knocking, you see."

"Sorry, Harry.", Hermione smiled knowingly and grabbed her boyfriend's arm, "Come, Ronald. We can see the finish dance when Harry has the competition."

"But - ", Ron hobbled behind her to the door, "Aren't you interested in how they work together?"

Before Hermione closed the door, Harry could hear her saying, "Oh, I'm sure they work together just fine."

Harry gaped at the door, his puls still racing.

"I'm finished for today.", Malfoy said and avoided his eyes.

"Why?"

The blond searched his clothe and turned off the music, "I'm going to meet Luna in an hour, and I should shower first. See you tomorrow."

And then he rushed out of the room, leaving Harry and his madly drumming heart behind.

 

When Harry came into the common room later, Hermione was already waiting for him. She was sitting on the window niche and read a book, but when Harry tried to slip into his dorm, she merely raised an eyebrow.

Slowly he walked towards her and sat down on the niche.

"So."

"So.", he said, nibbling on his lip nervously.

"You and Malfoy, huh?!"

"Me and Malfoy?"

She snorted, "Come on, Harry. Don't play dumb."

He sighed. Harry wasn't ready to talk about Malfoy and the strange thing he felt for him. He wanted to figure it out entirely before he told his friends, but Hermione seemed to know it already. She always knew. Maybe Ron had been mean when he said she was a know-it-all, but he hasn't been wrong about it.

"You don't have to hide who you are, Harry."

"I'm not hiding, 'Mione.", he moaned, "It's just that I'm not sure what that is."

She blinked her brown eyes and asked sarcastically, "Really? And today?"

"It was the first time we came near each other, like that.", Harry whispered, "I'm not sure what he feels."

"He likes you, clearly. Or he wouldn't do that for you."

"Maybe, maybe not. Luna forced him into helping me with a secret."

She rolled her eyes, "You do know that Luna knows about his feelings for you. Even I know about his feelings for you for years."

"What?", He couldn't have heard right. Malfoy wasn't in love with Harry ... for years.

"Seriously, Harry!", She sighed with impatience, "Everyone knows. He likes you, and you like him."

"No!"

"Just think about it.", with that, she stood up, kissed his cheek lightly and went to bed.

Malfoy couldn't like Harry that way, couldn't he? They had hated each other for years, fought every day.

And Harry liked girls, hadn't he? There had been Cho and then Ginny. And while the relationship with Cho had been a disaster, he had been happy with Ginny. He had liked her enough, and they had shared the hobby dancing.

Something had been missing when he was with her, Harry knew, but could it have been this? Harry had never thought about another boy, although he had seen all his roommates naked before. He hasn't been interested. When he masturbated, he always thought about no one and nothing at all, only the feeling of thing that thing.

So, could he be gay?

Or was it just Malfoy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE NOTE 5th August 2018:  
> Hey guys, sorry for not updating the story, but apparently my body is a bitch and I'm in the hospital.  
> I will update the story ASAP and it will not be abandoned, but I need a bit more time to recover.  
> Love, Finn

**Author's Note:**

> BTW...I'm always in need and searching for a beta reader. So if one of you would be interested, just text me ;)


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